Well, I'm sick of all this harsh rule I'm Pontius Pilate that's who Got those zealous confused Jews And I've given up home and those happy days in Rome And the battles of old too Is there anyone here who's not crazy' Is there anyone here who's sane at all'

Well, I'm so tired of Jerusalem all the fussin' and feuds It's all that they do here Well, I know that truism that there's no place like Rome And I'd like to get there Is there anyone here who's not a criminal' Is there anyone who don't belong in jail'

Is it any wonder I've got too much crime on my hands I'm sick of the strays that they send to me I've got too much crime on my hands It's hard to be me, oh the humanity I've got too much crime on my hands So just take Him away, take Him away from me Too much crime on my hands Just t-t-take Him away I don't know what to do with this Man Too much crime on my hands

Well now they sent me Jesus Like I don't have enough problems Now I need to try Him He's got a dozen friends And there's hundreds of enemies who all want Him dyin' With His many wonders they're not impressed with Him Is it any wonder I've got no choice'

Is it any wonder I've got too much grime on my hands It's stickin' like paint to my hands, you see I've got too much grime on my hands It's hard to be clean when you're a man like me I've got too much grime on my hands So just take Him away, take Him away from me Too much grime on my hands T-t-take Him away I don't know what to do with this Man Too much grime on my hands...



Matthew 27:11-26, Mark 15:1-15, Luke 23:1-25, John 18:28-19:22